


Poison Me With Love

by dimpled_halo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anal Sex, Falling In Love, Fluff, Ghost Sex, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Jealous Louis, Light Angst, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Mentions of Death, Other, Smut, Soulmates, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-12-27 10:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12079425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimpled_halo/pseuds/dimpled_halo
Summary: Gemma hums for a couple of seconds, and then, she gasps. “What if your flat is haunted?”“Gemma, that’s not funny,” Harry says.“No, I’m serious. I was just watching a show about it the other day. There’s, like, spirits and stuff that roam around different places. Maybe one of those spirits lives in your flat.” She says it like it’s such a common thing that Harry rolls his eyes. His sisterwouldbe watching shows like that, but Harry doesn’t appreciate that she’s telling him all this, not only because Harry is already spooked, but also because he lives alone in a flat that has weird things happening to him, and the last thing he needs is to be losing sleep over wondering if there’s some sort of spirit living in his home.*Or- There are strange things happening in Harry's flat and he's determined to figure out the cause.





	Poison Me With Love

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy! The title, inspiration, and lyrics throughout the fic come from Kesha's song "Supernatural" which also happens to be my word for this challenge, so HAPPY READING!
> 
> Thanks to Lisa and Mal for betaing and KK for your Brit picking. You're the best :)
> 
> Thank you so much to [ Neurtsy](http://neurtsy.tumblr.com/) for the beautiful artwork you did for this fic. I really really love it so much!

_Baby when we're touching in the dark, can you feel it?_  
_I can hear the pounding of my heart, can you feel it?_  
_When you take my body to the stars, I believe it_  
Boy this love is supernatural, can you feel it?

 

“Are you sure you don’t need anything, dear?”

Harry rolls his eyes even though he knows his mother can’t see him. “I’m fine, mum. I’m just finishing unpacking a couple of more boxes. I’ll be alright. Besides, I start my new job on Monday, so there’s no need to worry about me.”

Harry’s mum sighs on the other end of the line. “Alright then. Promise you’ll call me if anything comes up, okay?”

“I promise. Now, I’ve gotta go. I need to stop by the shops before they close so I can have something for dinner.”

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you too, bye mum.” Harry taps on the red button of his mobile and sighs. He looks around his new flat. It’s very small, dingy, but quaint. It suits him perfectly.

No one ever said that being on your own would be easy, even more so when you’re fresh out of uni and trying to make it on your own for the first time in your life. Harry knows it’s not the easiest thing to do, but he’d insisted that he could make it work. How was he ever going to learn if his parents were always there to take care of him?

He can’t wait to see the look on his mother’s face when she visits him. Harry knows she’ll have a lot to say about his new flat, but he doesn’t care. Everyone has to start somewhere, and this is where Harry chose to begin his adult life. There’s something scary but equally exciting about living on your own for the first time, and so far, it’s been exciting.

Harry goes to the shops down the road from his flat and gets a few things to hold him for the next week or so. It’s mostly pot noodles and a few essentials, as he’s starting a new job in a couple of days and he has to make his current savings last him until he receives his first wage. He carries the bags of food up the three flights of stairs, and he wonders if maybe living on the third floor wasn’t the best idea but just shrugs it off. He puts everything away in their newly designated places, and he prepares some chicken flavored pot noodles and some tea before settling himself on his small futon couch, opening his laptop to set up his favorite DVD— The Notebook.

The film has always been sort of like a comfort blanket, there in good times and bad, and what better way to watch it than on his first night in his new flat? It has been Harry’s escape in many uncomfortable situations, and tonight is no different.

The film starts, and Harry sits comfortably, enjoying his food and being mesmerized by Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams. It always feels like he’s watching it for the first time, even though he already knows what happens— can even recite most of the lines.

The living room is dark; the only source of light is the glow coming from his laptop. Just as Noah is running to try to catch Ally before she leaves, Harry feels the cushion from the futon beneath him shift and a cold shiver runs through his entire body. Instinctively, Harry’s head snaps sideways toward the empty spot next to him, but, there’s nobody there, even though it felt for a moment that there was. That was weird, he thinks.

Harry finishes the rest of his tea and sets it on the worn coffee table in front of him and continues to watch the film. He’s not used to living alone, so he’s sure he must have just imagined whatever that was. He shakes it off and goes back to watching the film as if nothing had happened, taking no time to get engrossed in it again.

Despite all the times Harry has watched The Notebook before, he _always_ manages to shed a tear when it ends, just as he does tonight. There’s something so beautiful about finding the love of your life and doing whatever it takes to be together, even in the afterlife. With a sigh, Harry shuts his laptop and gets ready for bed.

His bedroom is tiny, barely room for his full sized bed and a very small desk, but it’s good enough for Harry. He throws on his favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt that he always sleeps in and takes off his jeans and socks. Autumn is making its way to London, so the weather has been nearly perfect enough that Harry just needs a light blanket and nothing more. He hooks his phone up to the charger and turns off his alarm. He’s got one more day to sleep in before he starts his new job on Monday, and he’s going to take advantage of that.

Harry fluffs his pillow as he settles himself into bed, shutting off the lamp on his night stand and taking a deep breath. Not so bad for his first night alone, he thinks. He browses some of his favorite social media apps for a little bit as he lets himself get drowsy, and when he can barely keep his eyes open anymore, he locks his phone and sets it aside.

Harry doesn’t remember when he falls asleep, but he’s startled awake by the feeling of soft, delicate fingers caressing his bare thigh. At first, he thinks he’s dreaming, but when he realizes that it’s not a dream, he sits up on his bed, looking around frantically and thinking someone might have broken into his flat, but there’s no one in sight. His heart is rabbiting hard and fast inside  his chest, and he’s breathing heavily. He turns on the lamp, just to check everything out, getting out of bed to walk around and make sure there’s no one hiding anywhere and there aren’t any valuables missing, but again, there’s nothing out of the ordinary.

Harry runs a hand to his face, trying to take deep breaths to calm himself down. Maybe he was having a dream he can’t remember, and that’s what woke him up? It felt so _real_ , though, like fingers running over his skin. He can still feel the lingering touch on his thigh. Harry subconsciously rubs a hand over the area.

Since he’s already up, he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen. He’s feeling back to normal, but he’s still a little shaken up about what just happened. Harry grabs his laptop from where he’d left it on his coffee table and brings it into his room. Since he’s got no cable or internet, he’s going to have to put one of his Friends DVDs and leave it playing while he falls back to sleep, just to have something to keep his mind off of what just happened. If he doesn’t there’s no way he’ll get much sleep; his mind will wander to weird thoughts that he doesn’t need to linger on.

He settles his laptop on the nightstand and hits play, lowering the volume enough so that he’ll be able to fall asleep before turning off the lamp once again.

Harry gives into sleep halfway into the second episode, and the whole incident all but forgotten.

*

“And this is your cubicle,” Niall, Harry’s new co-worker and assigned tour guide, tells him. “It’s small, I know, but I’m right next to you, so feel free to shout if you need anything.”

Niall smiles brightly at Harry. He hasn’t been here for more than an hour, and he already feels like he’s made a new friend. Niall showed him around the entire floor, including where the break room is and, of course, where he can score some free snacks. It’s not too bad for an entry-level advertising position. Harry has known from the beginning that he was going to have to start from the bottom and work his way up, and he’s more than willing to work his arse off to get to where he wants to be.

“Thank you.” Harry smiles back before he sits on the chair of his new cubicle.

His first day isn't bad at all. His colleagues all seem genuinely friendly, and his boss...well, he doesn't really feel like a boss. He keeps insisting Harry call him Liam instead of Mr. Payne, which takes him a handful of tries before he finally gets it right. In the morning, they have a meeting with the entire staff where everyone introduces themselves and their position with the company. Liam even makes them play a silly icebreaker game, which pretty much just turns into a social with all the snacks and soft drinks Liam provides for everyone. They do get some work done, though, and Harry pretty much shadows Niall all day as he shows him the ropes. He doesn't realize that it's time to go home until Jayde, their marketing manager, stops by their cubicles to say goodbye.

The tube ride back to Harry's flat is pretty uneventful, and he spends it listening to the new Kesha album. Harry gets home, turns on the kettle, and decides to prepare a simple cheese toastie for dinner after he changes into more comfortable clothing. He resumes watching the Friends DVD he fell asleep watching the night before as he eats his dinner.

It's the episode where Phoebe is trying to seduce Chandler after she and Rachel find out he and Monica have been hooking up. Chandler has just put on some music, and Phoebe is doing a supposedly sensual dance that makes Harry giggle every time he watches this episode. Right in the middle of a particularly funny part, there's a raspy, high-pitched laugh that echoes in the living room, and it makes Harry jump, nearly spilling his tea all over himself. Harry's eyes widen and search around the flat, but there's nobody around. He leans over to pause the show and tries to listen, thinking maybe his downstairs neighbor was the one that was laughing and their walls are just really thin.

Silence.

There's no way this is all in Harry's imagination, though. He heard it clear as day, as if there was someone sitting right next to him watching his favourite tv show.

“Hello?” Harry feels silly talking to no one, but he also feels like he has no other option.

As expected, there's no response. Harry sighs.

Harry's mobile goes off, and he jumps again, clutching his chest as he reaches over to answer.

“Hello?” he squeaks.

“Hey, little brother. How was your first day on the new job?”

It's his sister Gemma. Harry's shoulders relax a bit, and he can't help but smile as he tells her about his day and how lovely his new boss and co-workers are.

“How's your new flat? You're not stuck with some crazy neighbors, are you?” Gemma asks.

Harry laughs. “Not that I know of. But…”

Harry wonders if he should tell his sister about the strange things he's been experiencing, but would she believe him, or will she think he's gone mad?

“What is it?”

Harry exhales. He tells his sister everything no matter how crazy he may sound, so he decides this shouldn't be any different.

“There has been some weird things happening…” he begins.

“Like what?”

“Promise you won't laugh, okay?” Harry pleads.

His sister sighs on the other line. “I won't laugh, Haz. Just tell me what's going on.”

“Okay, so I was watching The Notebook the other day, and I felt something. I can't really explain it, but it felt like someone sat next to me on the futon. I didn't think much of it at first, but then, later that night when I was in bed, I felt like someone was touching my leg. I woke up startled, thinking someone had broken in, but there was no one. And just before you called, I was watching Friends, and I swear I heard someone laugh,” Harry explains. It sounds a lot worse out loud, he thinks, but there's nothing he can do about it now, because it's already out there.

Gemma is quiet for a moment before she asks, “Are you sure it wasn't just you laughing?”

Harry scoffs. “Don't be daft. Obviously, I was laughing, too, but it was someone _else_ laughing with me. It freaked me out a lot.”

Gemma hums for a couple of seconds, and then, she gasps. “What if your flat is haunted?”

“Gemma, that’s not funny,” Harry says.

“No, I’m serious. I was just watching a show about it the other day. There’s, like, spirits and stuff that roam around different places. Maybe one of those spirits lives in your flat.” She says it like it’s such a common thing that Harry rolls his eyes. His sister _would_ be watching shows like that, but Harry doesn’t appreciate that she’s telling him all this, not only because Harry is already spooked, but also because he lives alone in a flat that has weird things happening to him, and the last thing he needs is to be losing sleep over wondering if there’s some sort of spirit living in his home.

“Gemma,” Harry whines, “why the fuck would you tell me that?”

“Haz, don’t worry. Most spirits are friendly...or so I heard on tv.” Gemma attempts to reassure him, but it doesn’t work.

“You know what, whatever. I’m gonna go before you start telling me that Chucky is real or summat. I’ll talk to you later, bye.” Harry presses the end button before he gets a response from his sister. He takes a deep breath. “Fuck.”

That night finds Harry in bed, looking up things of a supernatural nature on his phone. He stumbles upon a website that has people sharing their own experiences with supernatural beings. Some are rather interesting. How does one even have sex with a ghost? How is that even possible? Some people talk about how they felt a heavy weight sort of feeling on top of them, and others say they woke up to their hips moving back and forth like they were  having sex. There’s no way to tell if these people are telling the truth or are just full of shit, as anyone can make a profile and write whatever, but it gets Harry thinking.

Could his flat be haunted?

How does he even determine something like that? It’s not something that usually comes up when you’re shopping around for a flat, and it’s not like the owner is going to tell you that the previous owner died tragically and without explanation, and that’s why the flat suddenly became available or whatever. Harry wonders if there’s a way to determine once and for all if there really is something or someone roaming around.

Just as Harry is about to put his phone away, he feels his bed dip right by the foot of his bed. He knows that no one is there, because he can see by the moonlight shining through his bedroom window. There’s a strange energy that Harry can’t quite explain, like the sensation of being watched. He can practically feel the heat of someone’s gaze on him. Harry doesn’t startle this time around. His heart is pounding, though; it’s so loud he can hear his pulse in his ears. He sets the phone on the night stand and then sits up for a moment to take off his t-shirt. The cool air hits his heated skin, making goosebumps on his arms before he takes a deep breath.

This is Harry’s opportunity to find out whether this is a supernatural presence or just a figment of his imagination. What better way to do that then to put on a show, he thinks.

Harry starts slow, running his hands down his chest. He takes one nipple between his index finger and thumb, rubbing it back and forth. He lets out a small, breathy whine. He’s always loved to have his nipples played with. He closes his eyes and basks in the feeling of pleasure that’s beginning to pool in the pit of his stomach. He can already feel the blood rushing toward his cock, no doubt hardening in just a few moments.

Harry lifts his duvet away from himself so that he’s on full display. He’s already half hard in his boxer briefs. His other hand goes to touch his clothed dick, while he continues to tug at his nipple. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, moaning as he continues to move.

“Fuck,” he breathes. It’s been at least a week since he’s had a good wank, and the thought of someone, _anyone_ , watching him just turns him on even more.

Spirit or no spirit.

Harry can't take it— he needs more— so he quickly gets rid of his boxers, already feeling immediate relief as his cock is freed from the confinements of such tight clothing. He wraps his hand around himself, sliding his thumb across the head. A bead of precome is already leaking at the tip. He strokes himself once, then twice, before he starts an even rhythm. He tries for slow and steady at first, but he's becoming so desperate that it just won't do. It's not enough, so he increases his pace while he continues teasing his nipple, already red from all the pinching.

“Oh, God!”

Another moan rips out of him and this time Harry doesn't even try to hold it in. There's no one around to be quiet for anyway...well, no one human.

By this point, Harry has bitten his lips raw and his hand on his cock is moving so quickly that he's making the bed shake with every jerk.

Right as Harry is feeling his orgasm reach the surface, he feels pressure against his shoulder. Like a hand pressing onto him. That makes Harry's movements slow down. He's panting, trying to catch his breath and make sense of what's happening. He doesn't stop, though; he keeps his slower pace.

The pressure on his shoulder tightens even more. It feels cold against his heated skin.

“Stop.”

Harry's breath hitches, and he freezes. The voice is commanding but soft. Harry wants to hear it again, so he resumes his wanking.

“I said _stop_.”

The voice is more audible this time, much clearer. Harry stops moving. He places both arms at his sides and waits. For what, he's not quite sure.

Harry is still painfully hard, but he's not about to anger whoever it is that ordered him to stop by disobeying them.

“Can I come? Please,” Harry asks. He's surprised by the tremble in his voice because he's not really scared. It feels more like an adrenaline rush zinging throughout his body, and he just needs his release. And, to his surprise, he needs — _wants_ — the thrill of having someone tell him he can have it.

Harry can still feel the invisible hand on his shoulder, and it loosens a bit at his question. The voice groans.

“May I help?”

“With what?” he asks, needing clarification, because it can’t possibly be what he’s imagining.

Harry feels the invisible hand move, the fingers trailing down his chest touching at his reddened nub. Harry bites his lip harder. It feels like an ice cube trailing down his chest.

“May I help get you off?” the voice asks, and for a moment, Harry had forgotten what they were even talking about, too distracted by this weird but pleasurable feeling on his body.

Harry is at a loss for words. Just minutes ago, he was questioning the stories of people having sexual encounters with supernatural beings, and now, here he was, about to be proven wrong and in the most incredible way. All he can do is nod.

“Please use your words.” The voice is firm, almost whiny, and the sound of it makes Harry’s cock twitch between his legs.

“Ye-yes,” Harry says, voice desperate, but at this point, he doesn’t even care.

That seems to be all the permission they need before Harry feels a delicious pressure squeeze around his dick. The hand is tight on him, and it feels so good that Harry needs a moment to gain his bearings, or else he’ll be coming right there on the spot. His hands grip onto the sheet beneath him, already bracing himself knowing he isn't going to last much longer.

He can’t help but groan as the hand begins to move. “Oh fuck!”

The feeling is electric, like sparks going off all over his body. Harry's a panting sweaty mess, and it only takes a few tugs by this magical, perfect being before he's coming all over his abdomen and chest.

The hand works him through his orgasm, eventually slowing down to a complete stop. Before Harry can finish catching his breath, the pressure from his dick disappears.

“I- This was a mistake...I have to go,” the voice says. It sounds on edge, and Harry can feel the energy of his presence leave the room in an instant. It feels like all of the air left the room in one big whoosh of cold and hot, and Harry's body aches from the sensation.

It feels like walking into a room not knowing anyone, feeling all eyes on you, except this is the opposite. There are no eyes, no hands, no voice. Nothing. It's empty and lonely, and it makes tears prickle at the back of Harry's eyes. It leaves an unsettled feeling at the pit of Harry's stomach, making him suddenly feel embarrassed and exposed at what just happened.

*

The rest of the week at work goes really well. Harry is able to adapt quickly to the fast-paced environment of his workplace. He finds himself accepting an offer from Niall on Friday to go to the pub with him and a few other colleagues after work.

Even though work has being going as best as it could possibly go, things at home have been...quiet. It shouldn’t bother him that he hasn’t had any strange happenings going on around the flat. He should be relieved that whatever being was hanging out has finally left, and that he’s been able to really be alone and not be bothered by weird noises...or beings. But it hasn’t been that way. There’s this sort of longing Harry feels inside of him that he can’t quite explain.

Maybe it’s his curiosity not being satisfied. Harry didn’t have much time to talk to the spirit to determine what his business was, too caught up in a moment that he just couldn’t deny. Perhaps he should have let things play out differently, and then, maybe Harry would have had some answers. It doesn’t help that he can’t stop thinking about that night, about the way he felt, the presence around him. It’s indescribable, the way it made him feel, that intimate moment that he shared with this being. Harry wonders if he’ll ever get to experience something like that with another person...or thing. The thought makes him laugh at himself. It’s ridiculous, is what it is.

“Harry, you ready to go?” Niall pops into Harry’s cubicle, distracting him from his thoughts, which he’s thankful for. It’s only approximately the millionth time he’s run these thoughts around in his head, never quite coming to any sort of conclusion, and it’s been driving him mad.

Harry gathers his messenger bag and straps it across his chest. He’s more than ready to get absolutely smashed tonight. He needs to forget that night ever even happened.

The pub they end up going to isn’t far from the office. They meet up with Perrie and Jayde from the marketing department, Zayn from payroll, Normani who’s the new intern, and Liam. Never did Harry think he’d be having drinks after work with his boss, but here he is. Liam offers to buy them the first round, saying it’s their reward for working so hard all week. Everything passes by in a blur after that. Niall buys them all a round, then Zayn, then Harry loses track after that. He doesn’t drink very often, but when he does, all bets are off, and he’s on his way to being blissfully drunk.

Harry can feel the tension melting from his shoulders the more he drinks. He is caught up in interesting conversation, getting to know everyone. They’re all such easygoing people, that Harry has no trouble finding things to talk to them about. They get into teams and play a couple of rounds of darts before Liam and Zayn conveniently have to leave. Now that he really thinks about it, Harry wonders if there’s something going on between them. If anything, the looks Zayn is giving Liam right now are a dead giveaway, but Harry pretends not to notice, not wanting to put them on the spot or anything.

That gets Harry’s liquor-happy mind wandering about his own love life and how it’s been nonexistent for so long. While in uni, Harry didn’t want any distractions, so he never fell into any serious relationships. Hookups and mutual agreements that it would be nothing more than just getting off are what got him through university, and he sort of put up blinders, shielding himself from the fact that he didn’t have anyone special to come home to, someone to love and to have love him back. He can’t help the deep exhale that escapes his mouth. Maybe now is a good time to start actually dating to find that special someone, he thinks.

As if he’s just summoned them with his thoughts, Harry feels someone approaching him. The guy is cute, a bit shorter than him with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. He’s smirking at Harry, and when he finally gets to his table, he waves.

“Hey, I’m Adam,” he says.

Harry grins back. “Hi, Adam, I’m Harry.” He stretches his hand out to shake it, and Adam takes it and doesn’t let go.

“Hi, Harry. I noticed you earlier tonight, and I just couldn’t leave without coming to talk to you. I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime? And if I could maybe get your number?” Adam’s eyes are so hopeful that Harry would feel bad turning him down, but he finds he doesn’t want to turn him down. He wants to get himself out there, see what dating as a young, working adult is like. Adam seems like the ideal person to start with.

“Sure, I’d love that,” Harry says. Adam’s smile widens at that, and he pulls out his phone and hands it to Harry. He enters his contact information and hands it back. Adam sends him a text, which Harry saves onto his own phone.

“So, hopefully, I’ll get to see you soon,” Adam says. “It was nice to meet you.”

With that, Adam walks away, catching up with his own group of friends as they walk out of the pub.

“Look at you, already getting someone’s number!” Niall says, nudging Harry’s side.

Harry feels his face heating up, a little embarrassed that Niall just witnessed that.

They don’t spend much more time at the pub after that. Harry and Niall bid farewell to everyone and take the tube back home together— Niall getting off two stops before Harry.

By the time Harry gets to his flat, he’s absolutely knackered. His eyes are sleep heavy, and he’s really fucking thirsty as he stumbles inside. He drops his keys by his coffee table, grabs a bottle of water and strips off his clothes until he's in nothing but his pants before he lets himself fall into his welcoming bed. He wraps his duvet around himself and nestles his face into the pillow. As Harry drifts off to sleep, he feels a faint cold touch on his cheek, but he doesn't have time to dwell on it before he's passed out.

*

 _Come, take me by the hand_  
_Wanna cross the line, baby go ahead_  
_'Till the morning light, watch my silhouette_  
'Cause you know tonight, we're gonna wake the dead

The following week finds Harry running around his tiny kitchen like a headless chicken trying to make sure dinner is perfect. He didn’t hesitate to contact Adam, and they’d been exchanging text messages throughout the week, until Harry finally gained the courage to invite him over for dinner. Since he’s still on a tight budget and hasn’t gotten paid from his new job, he figured making a delicious dinner and watching a DVD would be a good plan for a first date.

Harry decided to show off his culinary skills to make a good first impression, so he went to the shops and got all the ingredients he needed to make a roasted salmon with a mushroom risotto. Now, though, he’s sort of regretting the salad, as he’s getting strapped for time, he still needs to hop in the shower and decide on an outfit to wear. They may just be hanging out at Harry’s flat, but it’s been ages since he’s been on a proper date, and he will pull out all the big guns to make sure it goes well enough that it earns him a second date.

After getting the salmon out of the oven and making sure he didn’t leave the stove on, Harry rushes to get ready. He goes in for a quick wash, then decides on his black skinny jeans that show off his arse and his flower-patterned blouse. He runs some hair product through his curls, making sure he arranges them around his face, leaving no stray hairs behind. As he’s spraying a bit of aftershave, he hears someone knocking at the door. Harry checks his phone and sees that Adam is a few minutes early, but Harry is pretty much done getting everything ready, anyway.

When Harry opens the front door, he finds a smiling Adam on the other side with a bottle of wine in one hand.

“Hey. You look incredible,” Adam says, as he hands the bottle of wine over to Harry.

Harry blushes. “Thanks, so do you. Please come in.” Harry moves to the side to let Adam enter and closes the door. “Make yourself at home.”

Harry puts the wine on top of the dining table, which is already set for them to have dinner.

“It smells delicious,” Adam says, pulling out a chair and settling into it. “What’s for dinner?”

Harry walks over to the kitchen to fill their plates with food. “Salmon with mushroom risotto, and a fennel salad. I hope you’re hungry.”

He brings the plates to the table, placing Adam’s in front of his before bringing his own to his side.

“Would you like some wine?”

“Yes, please,” Adam says, bringing his empty wine glass up for Harry to fill.

“Mmm, I love me a good red wine,” Harry tells him as he finishes pouring the wine in his own glass. He can smell the fruitiness of it as he pours.

They tuck into their food, and Harry feels relieved that it tastes delicious. It’s not that he had any doubt in his cooking skills, but he was in sort of a rush trying to get it done. The moan that comes out of Adam is all the confirmation he needs to know that his date feels the same way.

“This food is delicious,” Adam says with a mouth full of food.

Harry grins, feeling his cheeks redden. He’s never been good at taking compliments. They get into an easy conversation, trying to get to know each other. Adam tells Harry that he works as an administrative assistant for a medical office, and that he’s in school studying to be an X-ray technician. Harry tells him about how he just moved to the area after graduating from university and getting a job in advertising.

They get so lost in conversation that, at one point, they’re just laughing and finishing the bottle of wine that Adam had brought over.

Adam stops laughing while Harry is still catching his breath and just looks at him. “You’re so beautiful when you laugh.”

Harry dodges Adam’s intense stare, too shy to look directly at him. “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself,” he teases.

They both jump when one of the empty wine glasses slides from the table and tumbles to the floor, shattering into pieces. There was no way it could have been an accident; the glasses were both in the middle of the table, and both Harry and Adam witnessed the glass slide across before it fell off.

“What was that?” Adam asks, eyes wide. “You saw it right?” His eyes meet Harry’s, his voice shaky with apprehension.

Harry’s mouth is open, unable to form any words. “I….yeah...I saw that,” he eventually manages to get out.

Harry closes his eyes. _Of course_ his little visitor would decide to make his return when Harry’s on a date. He tries his best not to roll his eyes when he opens them again.

“It must have been the wind or something?” Harry knows he sounds ridiculous, but, at this point, he’s hoping Adam buys his lame excuse.

Adam doesn’t seem to believe it at first, but then, he shrugs reluctantly. “Yeah, maybe,” he says, still sounding unsure.

Harry’s shoulders relax a bit at that. He grabs a broom and dustpan to clean up the shards of glass on the floor. Adam rushes to help.

“Would you like some dessert?” Harry tries to get rid of the awkward silence that has settled between them, wanting to move past this weird moment and go back to the flirting they were doing just a few minutes ago.

“Sure. What do you have?”

“Ice cream? Mint chocolate chip.” Harry stands up to gather their empty plates to make room and put them in the sink.

“That’s my favorite. I’d love some,” Adam says, his voice lighter and his smile reappearing on his face.

“That’s _my_ favorite!” The voice is loud and petulant, and it makes Harry startle, causing him to drop the plates he was carrying.  He looks down in shock as they clatter to the floor.

Adam’s eyebrows furrow. “Do you have a roommate or something?” He bends over to help Harry pick up the plates, which thankfully didn’t break like the glass did.

Harry shakes his head. “No, I don’t.”

“Then...who was….” Before Adam can finish asking, the voice interrupts again.

“None of your business, pal!”

This time, not only can Harry feel the presence in the room, there’s now also a dark grey silhouette the shape of a man standing next to him. It makes Harry shiver.

“What the fuck?” Adam’s mouth is wide and his eyes big. “I-I’m sorry, Harry. I’m getting the fuck out of here!” he says, before turning around and running out of the door.

The voice chuckles. “What a loser. I can’t believe you were going out with that tool.” The silhouette has his arms crossed, and the head turns to face Harry. “What?”

“I-I can see you...and what the hell was that?”

“You can see me?” Harry’s question goes completely ignored.

Harry nods, “Not, like, completely, but you look like a shadow.”

The silhouette looks at himself, stretching his arms out to check and see if he sees what Harry’s talking about.

“Hmm. Weird.”

“Hello? What do you think you’re doing? Why did you scare my date away?” Now, Harry is the one crossing his arms. He has forgotten the way the being left him without explanation weeks ago and, now, the way he just ran his date away. Harry is livid.

The spirit sighs. “I’m sorry, okay? You just...you’re too good for him. That guy was a complete twat.”

Harry scoffs. “You don’t even know him!”

“I could just tell. He had this, like,” his hand moves around, “sorta bad energy coming off of him. I didn’t like it.”

“That wasn’t up to you to decide,” Harry says.

The spirit’s shoulders slump. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I just...I couldn’t stand the fact that he got to date you, and…”

“And what?” Harry urges.

The spirit takes a deep breath. “And I don’t get to.”

His voice sounds small and scared, and Harry can’t help but let his defenses melt away. “You don’t even know me. I don’t even know your name. Do you have a name?” Harry asks incredulously.

“I know you’re a good person. I know that you’re gorgeous. And...my name is Louis, by the way,” he says.

“Louis.” Harry lets the name drip off his tongue. He likes the sound of it. Harry lets out a breath. “And Louis...where have you been? Why did you leave like that last time?”

Harry can’t help the hurt tone in his voice; he may still have some residual bitterness left from that night.

Louis seems hesitant to answer at first, but then, he says, “Can we go sit in the living room? I promise that I’ll explain everything.”

Harry agrees, even though he’s wondering if spirits even get tired enough to need to sit down. They sit on opposite sides of Harry’s futon, silence filling the room until Louis finally breaks it.

“I was scared. You’re the first human I’ve ever interacted with since I’ve been this way, and well...I got a bit carried away. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging,” Louis says sincerely.

“You didn’t exactly leave me hanging,” Harry jokes before continuing, “where have you been these past couple of weeks?”

“Um...I’ve been here.”

“You’ve been here the entire time?” Harry’s tone is hurt, and he can’t help it. The entire time, Harry thought that he’d left, but he’s been around without making himself known, and there’s something about that that pisses him off.

“Yeah. Not just here, though, I spend a lot of time up on the roof, can’t really go anywhere else,” Louis says.

“There’s a roof?” Harry doesn’t remember the owner saying anything about a roof.

“Yeah. It’s off limits to the tenants now...Ever since my accident, people aren’t allowed up there anymore,” Louis explains.

Harry isn’t really sure how to respond to that. There’s so much more he wants to know, but he also doesn’t want to pry.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can manage to say.

“There’s nothing you need to be sorry for. It was my fault really…” Louis seems to hesitate for a moment, as if he’s unsure whether or not he wants to continue on this path in their conversation.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it,” Harry assures him.

Louis faces him. “I want to. It’s just hard because I’ve never talked about what happened with anyone before.”

“I lived here, in this flat, before you. I was finishing up my first year as a medical intern. I had crazy hours, never had time to do anything. The little free time I did have, I spent catching up on sleep. One day, my sister Lottie called. She was devastated. She and her boyfriend had just broken up, and she wanted to come over and talk about it. She was my best friend; we told each other everything,” he explains. His voice seems to be drifting off into the painful memory he’s recalling from the recesses of his mind.

“So I took the day off work, the first day I’d ever taken off. I went to the shops, got some ice cream, crisps, pretty much any type of junk food you could think of. We hung out, she told me what happened, and we watched cheesy romcoms.” Louis stops for a moment, and Harry wishes he could see his face, so he could try to guess what’s going through his mind. Harry places his hand on top of the shadowy silhouette of Louis’ hand, hoping it serves as some sort of comfort.

Louis wraps his fingers around Harry’s hand and grips tightly. It feels soft and airy against his skin. “I decided it would be fun for us to dress up and take pictures up on the roof. I wanted to cheer Lots up, and she loves makeup and all that stuff, so I figured that would help her. I even let her put makeup on me, and we went upstairs. I made her try out the most ridiculous poses.” Louis chuckles at the memory. “And she thought I was being ridiculous, but I was just trying to make her laugh. At one point, I got a bit close to the edge of the roof, but it wasn’t the first time I’d done it. I remember Lottie even joking around, saying I better not fall over, and we laughed it off. But then, I was lifting up my phone to take a picture, and I lost my balance and…the last thing I remember is Lottie screaming for me and everything just went black,” Louis’ voice cracks as he recalls what happened.

“I’m so sorry, Louis.” Harry whispers, wishing there was more he could do or say to relieve some of the pain that Louis is experiencing right now. He may only be a spirit, but the pain is clearly evident in his voice.

“The next thing I know, I’m here, unable to go anywhere. When my family came to pack my things, nobody was able to hear me, let alone see me. And then you came, and you heard me — fuck, you can even see me. Sort of. It...it gives me some sort of hope. For what? I’m not really sure,” Louis says.

A tear makes its way down Harry’s cheek, he’s unable to hold back any longer. Louis reaches a hand out to wipe it away. A cold swipe against the corner of Harry’s eye makes a chill go through his spine.

“Is it okay if I….can I try something?” Louis asks, his hand still lingering on Harry’s cheek.  
  


Harry nods, because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to say anything coherent at the moment with how tight his throat feels. He can see Louis’ form leaning closer to him, and Harry remains still, waiting to see what Louis is going to do. He stops just a few centimeters away from Harry’s face. A sweet sort of anticipation blooms in his chest.“Close your eyes,” Louis whispers, like it’s a secret.

Harry obeys and closes his eyes. Nothing happens for a few moments, but then, he feels a cool press against his lips. It’s like he suddenly feels whole, and the part of him that’s been missing has found its way back home. The sensation remains for a while longer, and it feels like a brisk winter morning, making Harry’s body tremble all the way down to his toes. Before he knows it, the feeling is gone, and Harry feels empty, alone, again.

When Harry opens his eyes, he’s relieved to find that Louis’ shadow is still there. “Wow,” he breathes out.

Louis stands up, stretching his arm out toward Harry. “Come on, I’ll help you clean up. It’s the least I can do.”

Harry giggles, his frustration with Louis now long forgotten. “Alright.”

*

Harry shouldn’t be surprised that Niall won’t stop bombarding him with questions when he’s back at work on Monday. To be fair, it was largely Harry’s fault, being completely unable to keep his excitement about finally going on a proper date to himself. When they’re in the cafeteria for lunch, Niall won’t stop interrogating him.

“Oh, come on, Harry, you’re not gonna tell me how it went? You seemed so excited on Friday. You even asked Liam for permission to let you off an hour early so you could have enough time to prepare!” Niall whines.

Harry sighs. “It was fine, Niall. Just... not what I was expecting.”

That was technically true. Harry didn’t expect for Louis to show up out of the blue and scare his date away, but Niall doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh no, what happened? Was he rude? Did he forget to put on deodorant? Did he have really bad breath? Did he try to sleep with you on the first date?”

A laugh bursts out of Harry. “Oh my god, would you calm down? It wasn’t any of that. I just didn’t feel a connection or anything. I guess I’m just not as ready to put myself out there again as I thought I was.”

They’re sitting on one of the tables eating their food, and Niall is mid-chew when his mouth stops, his face dropping.

“Oh...well, that’s okay. You’ll know when you’re ready.” Niall grins then, patting Harry on the arm comfortingly before he resumes eating his pizza.

“Thanks, mate.”

Harry feels bad about keeping things from Niall since they’ve become such close friends in such a short period of time, but he doesn’t think there’s a good way to explain that he’s become friends with a ghost. He’ll probably go running for the hills just like Adam did, and with not knowing many people around the area, Harry can’t afford to lose a friend.

It’s not that he’s ashamed of Louis, though. In fact, he and Louis have hit it off really well. Since their conversation on Friday, Louis has been hanging around the flat. He doesn’t hide from Harry; instead, they spent the entire weekend binge watching Friends and romcoms. It’s not like they can do much else, since Louis isn’t fully visible, but he’s got a great sense of humor, and they spend a lot of time laughing and genuinely having a good time.

This morning, when Harry’s alarm went off, he felt dread about going to work for the first time, because he just wanted to stay home with Louis. Louis promised he’ll be there when he returns, and Harry believes him, but that doesn’t keep Harry from  missing him. He actually hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him, wondering what Louis is up to every small chance he gets. Harry wishes that Louis had a mobile or something, so he could text him random things throughout the day. There’s already been a few occasions this morning where something has happened and he’s wanted to tell Louis about it.

Later that afternoon, during some down time at work, Harry’s curiosity gets the best of him, and he types in Louis’ name into the google search. He doesn’t know much about him, just that his name is Louis Tomlinson and that he’s originally from Doncaster. There are obviously several Louis Tomlinsons, but Harry adds several other keywords to narrow it down. Eventually, he stumbles upon an article about Louis’ accident. There’s a picture of Louis, which looks like something probably taken off of one of his social media platforms.

Louis is fucking gorgeous. The picture shows Louis grinning, his eyes crinkled at the corners and so full of life. Harry’s stomach flutters with butterflies at the sight.

_Louis Tomlinson is survived by his mum Johannah Deakin and his sisters Charlotte, Felicite, Daisy, Phoebe, and Doris, and brother Ernest._

Harry can’t begin to imagine how Louis’ family felt losing him, and it makes him sad to know how much Louis misses them and wishes he could see them again. It makes him think about his own family and how worried his mum is about him living here on his own. Harry always brushes her off and gets annoyed with her worries, but he’s starting to understand where that love and care is coming from. No one is promised tomorrow, and it’s important to always cherish those you love most, because you never know when you’ll get to see them again. Harry makes a promise to himself that he won’t dismiss his mother next time she calls. Instead, he’ll listen to her, answer every question she wants, and tell her he loves her. He closes the browser, feeling too emotional from his thoughts to continue looking at anything else.

When Harry is on his way home on the tube, he gets an idea, so he takes a small detour before he arrives home. Louis isn’t around when Harry makes his way inside, but by the time he finishes putting his keys away, he feels his presence.

“Hey Lou, how was your day?” Harry asks, as he takes his jacket off and hangs it in the closet.

Louis’ shadowy figure approaches Harry. “Boring, but a lot better now that you’re here. How about you?”

Harry’s cheeks pinken as he shrugs. “It was okay. Missed you, though.”

A cold breeze wraps itself around Harry as Louis encircles his arms around him, “I missed you, too. You have no idea.” They stand there for a few moments just taking each other in. Harry is still trying to get used to the chill that accompanies Louis’ presence, but he returns the embrace. He feels comforting, and there’s nowhere else Harry wants to be.

“Mm, I’m gonna go change and then make some dinner.” Harry reluctantly lets go of Louis and walks towards his bedroom to throw on a pair of sweats.

“What do you wanna watch tonight?” Louis calls from the living room.

Harry returns to find Louis going through his DVD collection. “Actually, I got you something.”

He retrieves his messenger bag and grabs the DVD that’s still wrapped up in its packaging. “I remember you saying yesterday that this is your favorite movie and talking about how much you miss it, so…”

Louis reaches to take the film from Harry’s hand. “You got me Grease?” His voice is full of disbelief.

“I know you can’t see your family, and you can’t leave this building, but I wanted you to have a little something from your past that would make you happy,” Harry explains as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You make me happy.”

Harry’s breath hitches. “I do?”

Louis chuckles. “Of course. I’m dead, and I’ve never felt more alive than I do being here with you. I can’t explain it; I just know I always want to feel like this.”

Harry doesn’t realize how close his face had gotten to Louis’ until Louis closes the space between them and kisses him softly. “You’re amazing, Haz. Thank you.”

They spend the rest of the evening watching Grease as Louis sings along, recites lines, and tells Harry his favorite part is the race towards the end of the film. After the movie, they get ready for bed. Well, Harry gets ready, and Louis just hangs around until he gets in the bed to join him.

The room is dark and quiet for a moment, and Harry takes a deep breath.

“Hey, Louis?” his voice is small and soft, not wanting to disrupt the comfortable silence they’d fallen into.

“Yeah?”

“You make me happy, too.” Louis doesn’t say anything in return; instead, Harry feels cool fingers run through his hair. He lets that very same feeling lull him to sleep.

*

 _Come, take me in the night_  
_I feel it in my blood, want the darker side_  
_Baby when we touch, look me in my eyes_  
Poison me with love, I'll bring you back to life

The heat of the bright morning sun shining through his bedroom window prompts Harry's eyes to flutter open. It’s finally the weekend, and he can’t be more relieved to not have to go to work today. He turns  to glance at the other side of the bed where Louis had laid next to him the night before, just like every other night this week.

Except Louis isn't there.

Well, not the gray shape of a man that was Louis the night before. Instead, there lies a man he’s never seen before. Well, Harry assumes it’s a man since he can only see the back of his head. He is a bit smaller than Harry, but not by much. He's laying on his stomach, which makes his luscious arse hard to miss. He's wearing black jeggings and a white t-shirt that is perfectly fitted for his slim form. Harry finds it really hard to keep his hands to himself. He's not sure who this boy is, and he wonders if anything else happened last night that he doesn't remember.

Harry realizes he has no other choice but to wake the man next to him. No matter how hot he may be, he might be an axe murderer or something worse. Harry pokes the man on his side, making him grunt in response, but nothing else really happens. This time, Harry grabs the man’s shoulder and shakes it hard.

“Oi! What's with the rude awakening?” the man rasps. He sounds just like Louis, which makes Harry's stomach flutter at the sound of his voice.

“Who are you, and why are you in my bed?” Harry asks, sitting up in case he needs to reach for something to defend himself with.

The man rubs at his eyes and turns to look at Harry. Harry's heart stops beating for a second as he looks at the man’s eyes; they are the brightest shade of blue he's seen on a person. Not to mention he’s the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on. And then Harry realizes that the man isn’t a stranger at all. It’s Louis. Louis in the flesh.

“You can see me?” Louis asks, his mouth open in shock.

Harry's heart is pounding like a drum, harder and harder as his eyes trail down Louis’ body. This can't be real.

“Louis?” Harry whispers, awed.

Louis nods. “Yes. God I can't believe you can see me. This is...this is incredible.”

Louis reaches out again, his hand coming up to caress Harry's cheek. This time instead of feeling cold, Harry feels the warmth of Louis’ skin, making him lean into the touch.

“What's happening?” Harry asks, too afraid to know the answer. What if this is all a dream and Harry is due to wake up any minute?

Louis’ eyes don't leave Harry's as he answers, “I-I don't know...you're the only one who's ever been able to see me since the accident.”

They sit there on the bed staring at each other before they crash into one another like ocean waves. Harry's lips are on Louis’, and his mouth is so warm and wet, he never wants to come up for air.

Louis’ hands are tangled in Harry's hair, pulling him closer, even though they're already as close as they can be. Harry's hands make their way under Louis’ shirt, his fingers touching the soft skin around his belly button. His brain short circuits, still having trouble believing that this really is Louis in front of him.

Harry flips them over so that Louis is on his back on the bed, and he settles himself between his legs, their lips never disconnecting. Harry tugs at the white fabric.

“Off...please take it off,” Harry all but pleads. If this is a dream or something temporary, he wants to make the most of this opportunity, not willing to waste any more time talking. They can talk later, right now Harry just really needs Louis.

Louis complies, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the side and Harry does the same before he leans back in to capture Louis’ lips. They're lying chest to chest, panting into each other's mouths, and Harry never wants to stop. He never wants this feeling to go away, the feeling of wanting Louis forever, like this, for as long as fate will allow it.

The rest of their clothes come off easily, like they've been waiting their whole lives to be like this, bare next to each other. They take a moment to catch their breath, Harry staring into Louis’ eyes. His lips are bitten red, and his cheeks are tinted pink. The sight of him makes Harry's heart skip a beat. He's just that breathtaking.

Harry runs his fingers through Louis’ soft, feathery fringe.

“I want you,” he says, voice almost a whisper. He doesn't want to do anything to ruin this moment between them. Harry is afraid he’ll say or do the wrong thing and everything will disappear, popping the little bubble of bliss they've created.

“Then, take me. I'm all yours,” Louis says without missing a beat. He seems just as desperate yet apprehensive as Harry, but also just as sure about what he's saying.

Harry surges back in, deepening their kiss, licking into Louis’ slack and open mouth. He tastes like honey and vanilla, like nights at home cuddled into a blanket eating fresh baked  chocolate chip cookies and drinking warm cups of tea. So familiar, yet so new at the same time.

A moan rips out of Louis as their crotches make contact with one another. Harry is still hovering on top of Louis, and he grinds down to hear him make the same beautiful sound.

“Fuck, Lou, you look so good like this,” Harry pants against Louis’ open mouth. He kisses his jaw, working his way down to the crook where his neck meets his shoulder. Harry sinks his teeth in that area, and Louis whines as he licks over the bruise he leaves behind.

Harry reaches over to his nightstand, unable to drag this out any longer. He needs to have Louis right this instant. He grabs the lube and gets to work on opening him up. Louis takes it well; he's nothing but incoherent noises and breathy whines as Harry works his way up to three fingers.

“I'm ready, _please_ ,” Louis begs.

Harry pecks him on the lips, “I've got you, baby.”

He takes a condom and puts it on. He's pretty sure that ghosts don't carry STD's but you can never be too sure. If Louis even is a ghost anymore. He can’t waste time thinking about that now. He has more important things to do. He lubes himself up before lining up against Louis.

“You ready?” Harry asks, needing a moment to gather himself. This moment seems monumental somehow. He needs to ingrain it into his memory, because he knows there will never be anything else he will experience that will compare to this moment right here, above Louis about to make love to him.

Louis nods, “Yes, _please.”_

Harry starts pushing his way inside slowly, and it's a lot. Louis is hot and tight around him, and Harry needs to close his eyes and concentrate on not coming too fast like some sex-crazed teenager. He takes slow even breaths until he completely bottoms out and opens his eyes again.

Louis is laying beneath him, mouth slack and eyes glazed over.

“Holy shit,” he groans. “Come on, move.”

Harry does, as he pulls out, then pushes back in, starting steady thrusts that seem to punch the air out of Louis with every thrust. Harry isn't doing much better. His arms are shaking as he holds himself up and he doesn't think he can last much longer.

It's just that being inside of Louis like this is one of the best feelings in the world, and Harry never wants to stop. It all becomes so overwhelming, almost too much. He leans down to capture Louis’ lips with his as he increases his movements, his rhythm now harder, more punishing.

“You. Look. So. Good. Like. This,” Harry says between each thrust. All Louis can seem to do is whine in response.

After one especially hard move Louis screams, “Oh fuck, right there!”

Harry focuses on Louis’ prostate, never ceasing the back-and-forth motions of his hips. Before long, Harry takes Louis’ cock into his hand to jerk him off, and soon, white spurts of come are spilling out of him and all over his and Harry's chests. It doesn't take much longer than that for Harry to follow as he spills into the condom inside of Louis.

Harry's body gives out almost immediately, falling on top of Louis as they catch up on their breathing. They're a mess of sweaty limbs on top of the other for a moment before Harry finally gains his bearings and pulls out of Louis, making sure to dispose of the condom and bringing with him something to clean them both up.

They lay in bed facing each other.

“That was...amazing. You were amazing,” Harry tells Louis as he runs a finger across his chest. Harry can faintly feel a pulse under Louis’ chest which makes him wonder, but he’s too scared to think too deeply about it right now.

Louis smiles, his face showing a small trace of exhaustion. “You weren't so bad yourself,” he teases.

Harry grins. He still can't believe his luck with the wonderful being lying in front of him. He's afraid to fall asleep and find him gone, just a figment of his imagination when he wakes up again, but he's finding it very difficult to keep his eyes open. Louis seems to be in the same boat, as his long, feathery eyelashes flutter closed. Eventually, Harry gives in to sleep. In the back of his mind, he hopes Louis is still there when he opens his eyes again.

*

A few hours later, Harry finds himself waking up to the delicious smell of something that makes his stomach growl. As a reflex, he checks to see if Louis is laying next to him, but the spot is empty. Harry's stomach drops.

He gets out of bed and throws on a pair of boxers before making his way out of his room. As soon as he catches sight of Louis in front of the stove flipping French toast, his shoulders relax. Louis is still here, in human form, wearing nothing but Harry's hot pink Gucci jumper his mum had given him as a graduation gift. When Louis notices Harry's presence, he smirks over his shoulder.

“You hungry?”

Harry can't help but ogle at how hot Louis looks in his jumper, a small bit of flesh from his plump arse peeking out as he reaches over to the cupboard for some plates.

Harry bites his bottom lip to hold in a groan. “Starving.”

He eventually shakes himself out of it, stepping in to help Louis with the plates and setting up their teas. It all feels so comfortable, like they've been doing this their whole lives.

They tuck into their food, and Harry is surprised that Louis made really good French toast.

“Oh my god, this is so good,” Harry moans with a mouthful of food.

Louis blushes, smiling. “Thanks, it's me mum’s recipe.” His smile fades at the words, and Harry places his hand on top of his.

They resume their eating before Louis breaks the comfortable silence again. “I made an appointment to see a doctor,” he says.

Harry stops mid-chew to look at Louis. “Why?”

Louis shrugs. “I need to find out what's going on with me. I know we haven't really talked about it, but it's really abnormal that you can see me, let alone feel me. I need to know what's happening.”

Harry nods. “Can I come with you?”

“Of course.”

After they eat and put everything away, they take a shower together. They end up getting a bit carried away when Harry licks at Louis’ hole, unable to contain himself since he had caught a glimpse of Louis’ arse earlier today.

They end up rushing to get dressed and practically running out of the flat so that Louis isn't late to his appointment. The doctor, Louis explains on the tube ride over, is Louis’ friend Luke, who runs his own private practice in the city. He made the appointment with the receptionist, so Louis expressed his apprehension about seeing his old childhood friend.

“What if he runs away screaming?” Louis looks over at Harry with worried eyes.

Harry squeezes Louis’ hand. “I'll be right here.”

That seems to appease Louis as they get ready to get off at the next stop.

The office is small but modern. They ring the buzzer to be let inside. Louis checks in before he's told to go into an exam room with one of the medical assistants. Louis looks at Harry expectantly, and he follows close behind. The medical assistant checks Louis’ vitals, including his temperature and blood pressure, and everything turns out normal.

So Louis really has come back to life. He has a beating heart with a normal blood pressure, and his temperature is like any other average human being. Harry still can't believe it. He hopes the doctor is able to give them some answers.

Before long, they hear a faint knock on the door, and it opens slowly, almost like the person on the other side is too afraid to look at what's inside.

“Um...Louis Tom— oh my god, it really is you!” Luke walks in, and his face goes pale.

“Hey, Luke,” Louis says as he waves his hand nervously. He fidgets a little, his fingers run through his fringe before he shrugs his shoulders. “I don't know what's happened to me.”

Luke approaches Louis carefully, almost afraid that he'll disappear into thin air. He reaches out to touch Louis’ face.

“How did…? What happened? You were dead! I was at your funeral!” Luke’s eyes are wide and they stay glued to Louis, as if he were to look away, Louis would evaporate into thin air.

Louis chances a glance at Harry, who gives him an encouraging nod. “We’re not sure. That's why we’re here. We’re hoping maybe you can help us.”

Luke tentatively gets closer to Louis, reaching a hand out. “Can I?”

Louis nods and Luke touches his face. He brings the stethoscope to Louis’ chest, his face still in complete shock.

“Heart beat is good.” He places the stethoscope to Louis’ back. “Take a deep breath for me.” Louis complies. “Lungs are good.” Luke tells him with awe still dripping from his voice.

Louis goes on to explain everything that's happened since Harry moved into Louis’ old flat. Of course, he leaves out the intimate details but gives enough information to inform Luke that he and Harry have had an obvious connection from the start. Something they haven't been able to explain.

Luke performs all types of tests— from blood tests, to DNA tests, anything that might help clue them into what happened. They also take some samples from Harry just in case whatever is happening to Louis has some correlation with Harry.

“I'll need a few days to get the results and do some research, but I'll give you a call as soon as I get some answers,” Luke tells them. “In the meantime, I recommend you stay hidden. We still don't know what's causing this, and I would hate to give anyone false hope until we’re sure what’s happening, okay?”

Luke looks at Louis sympathetically, as if he could already read Louis’ thoughts about wanting to see his family.

Louis nods. “As much as I hate it, it makes sense. I look forward to hearing from you soon.”

Luke and Louis embrace each other in a hug before he and Harry bid him farewell. The tube ride back to the flat is quiet, and Harry hopes they’re able to find some answers soon.

*

“Soulmates?”

Harry and Louis look at each other wide eyes in shock. They've been spending so much time together, becoming so in sync with each other and now even saying the same things at the same time. In a typical situation, they'd probably laugh it off, but right now they're in Luke’s office, and he has just told them that they're soulmates.

“That's right. I reached over to my friend Andrew, who specializes in DNA abnormalities, and sent him your blood samples. These things are so rare that people believe soulmates are just a myth, when, in fact, it happens in about 1% of the world population.” Luke is sitting behind his desk, his glasses on as he reads them what Harry assumes are Andrew’s findings.

“How many times has someone actually come back from the dead when they've found their soulmate, though?” Louis asks.

Luke removes his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “There is no documented case of that ever happening. So either it's never happened or it's just never been recorded anywhere.”

There's so much information being unloaded on them that Harry feels his head might explode. It's just...a lot. Either way, the tests have concluded that Louis has in fact come back to life. The universe has given him another opportunity at life because he's met his soulmate as a supernatural being. It’s why he was confined to his block of flats— his sort of unfinished business on earth.

Harry can't help but grin like an idiot.

When they get back to the flat, Harry is on Louis before he even manages to close the door, unable to keep his hands off since Louis came back to life.

“Someone's getting a little greedy,” Louis teases.

Harry playfully bites at Louis’ earlobe, who yelps in response. “Mmm, not greedy, just grateful. So, so grateful. Gonna make the most of every moment with you, baby, because you're here with me,and I'm never letting you go.”

Harry finds Louis’ lips and licks into his open mouth, making Louis whine in response.

“Fuck, you're gonna kill me before I even get to see my family again,” Louis groans.

Harry chuckles as he pulls away to gaze at Louis. “Oh baby, you haven't seen anything yet,” he says before he goes in to kiss him again.

They still have a lot of things they need to figure out, but in the meantime, Harry is going to continue reminding Louis how much he means to him. How much he _loves_ him. The rest they’ll deal with it as it comes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed the fic and thanks for reading!
> 
> You can also reblog the fic post [ here](https://dimpled-halo.tumblr.com/post/166979062934/poison-me-with-love-11681-words-by-dimpledhalo)
> 
> Want me to write you your own fic? [Click here](https://comebackassholes.tumblr.com/post/173646347378/fics-and-betaing-for-charity). for more information!


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